


Marriage Counselling

by FionaGlenanneWesten



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: "Marriage" Counselling, (but they're not having problems I promise), F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25547971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FionaGlenanneWesten/pseuds/FionaGlenanneWesten
Summary: Michael&Fi want to kinship-foster their niece, as a condition of fostering, they must attend relationship counselling.I had to change the rating to Explicit after the latest chapter. I am trying to do full plot. The next chapter will probably also be in the therapy room (that is not the right word, but I'm sleep deprived and can't remember the right word)
Relationships: Fiona Glenanne/Michael Westen
Kudos: 5





	1. Preview

As a couples’ counsellor, I’ve seen the gambit come through here. Couples who’ve soured, couples who’ve had the romance die after a baby, couples who are trying to fake it and pretend nothing’s wrong. 

The couple that sat on my couch today, however, exuded none of those things. He sat on the couch normally, but she had her feet curled up on the couch next to her, her entire body draped around his toned arm and shoulder. Nothing about the looked fake, everything about it looked calm, relaxed, and normal for them. 

“So...what brings you here today?”

She spoke first. 

“Our niece, Charlotte,” she started. “We want to go into kin-ship foster care for her and marriage counselling is a requirement.”

“Okay...” I said. This made sense now. Red tape. There was nothing wrong with these two. 


	2. The Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With this I have to change the rating to E...
> 
> Also, I didn't mean for it to be all smut, I promise there will be plot next time...

"We have to go."

I lay splayed on a bed, with Michael on top of me, in the most luxurious hotel I'd been in in a while, ironically enough, because it was the one that had a direct sight line into the room approximately 500 meters away where we were surveilling a crooked state congressman pulling a crooked deal over his lunch break.

"Five more minutes?" Michael asked, with a little volley of thrusts into me, looking at me with big, pleading, puppy-dog eyes. 

“Aw!” I gapsed.

Michael smiled. I rolled my eyes, giggling a little.

“We’re going to be late,” I said, craning my neck to look upside down at the clock on the table across the room. We had less than 45 minutes to get all the way across Los Angeles to get to our couples counselling appointment. We really shouldn’t even have started this, but the five star hotel we had been using for surveillance and the first time away from a 7-year-old in weeks had gotten the better of both of us.

Michael stopped and tried desperately to stay still. A shiver of pleasure ran through Michael's trembling, muscled arms and Michael audibly gulped. 

"Oh, go on," I said, wrapping my arms around Michael's shoulders and pressing him closer. 

“Thank you,” he breathily gasped into my ear.

His hips instantly started working again, wriggling them just a little without really pulling out of me. I gasped and braced my pelvis against his, at the feeling of his cock against my blood-filled clit.

I felt Michael's lips on my neck, as he peppered a trail of kisses up to my jawline and onto my lips, kissing me fiercely once he reached them.

He reached between us, squeezing and kneading my breasts and pecks and rolling his hips into mine.

He thrust and circled his hips, buried as deep inside me as he possibly could, grinding his pubic bone against my clit. 

Michael sawed his hips in and out of mine. I sucked hard at Michael's lips, Michael made a soft chortling sound in his throat, his rock hard stomach thudding softly against mine with every thrust.

I felt Michael's cock, rock hard inside me. It was probably dripping, but Michael wasn't going to pull out of me to find out. I braced my pelvis against his and drew desperate breaths. I dug my heels into Michael's ass.

Michael screwed his hips into me. The overload of sensation sending spasms of pleasure shooting throughout my limbs. Michael kissed me, wine-red lips pulling softly at my own kiss-bruised lips.

Michael's pecks pressed into my breasts, 

Michael sawed his cock in and out of me quickly, riding the sexual high we were both on without holding back.

He squeezed and kneaded my breasts, letting go of them and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, gasping desperately for much needed air.

Michael held me to his chest, pumping in and out of me quickly. He drew his swollen cock out of me and I pulsed, pulsing around him as he plunged back into me.

I felt Michael hitch inside of me. Michael dragged in and out a few more times as I spasmed, trembling on Michael's spasming cock, shaking and spent.

Michael moved his lips over mine. Michael kissed me one last time, curling his fingers around my jawline before pulling away, leaning into his hips, where out bodies were still joined.

He cupped my cheek and gazed down into my eyes.

I always loved those moments, post sex when Michael looked down at me adoringly, but I was also achingly aware of the clock.

"C'mon, Michael," I said, reaching up and patting his cheek. "We gotta go."

Michael smiled and reluctantly pulled his hips off me, allowing me to get up so I could get dressed. 


	3. Session 1

As a couples’ counsellor, I’ve seen the gambit come through here. Couples who’ve soured, couples who’ve had the romance die after a baby, couples who are trying to fake it and pretend nothing’s wrong. 

The couple that sat on my couch today, however, exuded none of those things. He sat on the couch normally, but she had her feet curled up on the couch next to her, her entire body draped around his toned arm and shoulder. Nothing about them looked fake, everything about it looked calm, relaxed, and normal for them. 

“So...what brings you here today?”

She spoke first. 

“Our niece, Charlotte,” she started. “We want to go into kin-ship foster care for her and marriage counselling is a requirement.”

“Okay...” I said. This made sense now. Red tape. There was nothing wrong with these two. 

She tickled his chest obnoxiously adorably.

He was clearly used to this type of treatment, but it was also easy to tell he was fighting arousal.

“Fiona, can you stop doing that?” I asked.

She paused, seemingly noticing her hand was there for the first time. but not moving it.

“It’s probably distracting Michael…”

“Oh, I know it is,” she said, digging her fingertips just a little into the space between the buttons of his shirt. There was something a little bit possessive about the movement. Something about the way she resolutely dug her fingertips in clearly said, 'Mine,' 

“Fiona, you don’t need to mark your territory,” I said. “Nobody’s going to take him.”

“You have no idea how many women would try to take him, given the opportunity.”

She paused.

“Is that a problem?” she asked. “Am I too possessive?”

I turned to Michael.

“Do you think she’s too possessive?”

“No,” he said. 

“Then I think you’re fine,” I concluded. "I always think asking the spouse is the number one way to check if there's a problem."

  
_Fiona_

"So, how's your sex life," 

"It's fine,” Michael said.

"Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” I cut in.

"I'm sure,” said Michael.

"Pretending there isn’t a problem isn’t a going to solve it,” Dr. Laura said. "You mentioned the 7-year-old at home," she said. "Has having your niece in the house negatively impacted your sex life?"

"No," Michael answered, maybe a little too quickly.

"Oh?" Dr. Laura raised an eyebrow.

"She attacked me in a hotel room this morning," Michael said. 

"I attacked you?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows at him, feigning looking hurt.

Michael looked down at me.

"I mean, you did," Michael said. "You pounced on my neck and started kissing me."

"Oh please," I said. "The look you gave me right before I did it, you might as well have stuck your tongue down my throat."

Michael swallowed.

"Then you wrapped your arms around me and started kissing me," I retorted.

"Is this something you disagree about a lot?" Dr. Laura asked.

"Not disagree..." I started.

"No, she's right," Michael gulped, visibly uncomfortable. "I would have started something if she hadn't."

"And it was this afternoon," I corrected. "Not this morning...it's why we were late."


	4. Session 1.

"So you two work together...?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "We're sort of private military contractors..." I started.

"More like private detectives," Michael suggested.

"Exactly," I corrected myself. "That's a better description."

"How long have you two known each other?" Dr. Laura asked.

"Almost 20 years," I said. "We actually met when Michael was stationed in Ireland and assigned to work with me."

Dr. Laura seemed to start to get the idea what we did.

"Am I gonna hit an, 'It's classified,' wall at some point here?" she asked.

"Yes..." Michael nodded.

I looked Michael in the face.

"At this point?" I asked.

"Fi..." Michael started, exasperated.

"Okay then," I said.

"So..." she started. "Ireland..."

I looked over at her.

"It's just, you have no accent." 

"Oh, you mean like this?" I let my accent slip back in almost immediately.

"That is impressive," she said. "I would never have known."

"So you're a war-bride?" she asked.

"I've never thought of it that way before," I said. "But I guess you could call it that."

I looked down at my fingers and interlaced them

"Also, we're not married," I said, unlacing them.

"Almost 20 years, is there a reason for that," she asked.

I raised my eyebrows briefly and met eyes with Michael.

"No," I said.

"No," Michael said. "Just haven't yet."

"I assume this is a life-long relationship...?" she asked.

"Yes," Michael cut in.

I looked over at Michael and smiled.

"That's fine then," Dr. Laura said. "But you should know that if you two have been living together for more than 7 years you are married under California law."

We looked at each other for a moment.

"Well, it's only 5 years at the moment," I said.

She smiled.

"I want you two to keep an intimacy journal, and get back to me, and I will see you both on Monday," Dr. Laura said, picking up a purple hard-backed journal from the end-table next her chair. 

We must have both looked at her funny, because she continued.

"I don't know, I have nothing to do with you two. I'm usually doing triage, I'm flying blind here. Just do it," she said.

"Okay..." I stretched out the word, taking the journal.

"It's actually nice, by the way," she said. "Working with failing marriages everyday, makes you lose your faith in relationships. You make me think I might actually want to get married some day."

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter should be up in a few days, but I don't want them to delte my draft, so have tiny teaser first chapter.


End file.
